


speaking captain.

by worth_the_risk



Series: Brooms Up! [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Muggle Quidditch, alternate universe - muggle quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7768528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worth_the_risk/pseuds/worth_the_risk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you fucking know that people actually play quidditch?”</p>
<p>“You mean the sport from Harry Potter? With the brooms? The flying?” Marsh rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>Johnson side-eyed Shitty, grinning into his mug of tea. “Go on, Shits.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	speaking captain.

“You sonsabitches are never going to believe what I saw in my English lecture today.” Shitty pulled his usual chair out and dropped his backpack from his shoulder. Jack winced at the crash his friend’s laptop made when it hit the ground inside the bright red knapsack. “Did you fucking know that people actually play quidditch?”

“You mean the sport from Harry Potter? With the brooms? The flying?” Marsh rolled his eyes.

Johnson side-eyed Shitty, grinning into his mug of tea. “Go on, Shits.”

“Well, yeah, that sport, but you run instead of fly! And it’s full contact, and everybody plays on the same team, no gender-split bullshit! And there’s dodgeballs, and some fucker dressed all in yellow runs around as the snitch and you’ve got to catch them to end the game. They can throw you and shit, and climb trees. I’d hide in the well.” Shitty put his feet up on the table and leaned back in his chair, grinning. 

“What, uh.” Jack traced his finger over the rim of his cup, trying to be nonchalant and failing. “What about the brooms?”

Shitty let his chair fall back onto all four feet and pulled out his laptop. He had eight tabs open to different websites - Youtube, a homepage for something called the IQA, a rulebook, and a bunch of different resources about how to start new student organizations at Samwell. “There’s like,  _ actual _ ones–” he pointed at a photo in the rulebook of a team running in a line on black-handled brooms with stylized bristles “–and some people use PVC pipe and paint it. Somebody’s working on fiberglass models, apparently, too.”

“Shitty, it’s been like half an hour since your class, how–”

“Oh, I was looking all this up in class!” Shitty put his hands up at Jack’s annoyed expression. “Like I haven’t read Sorcerer’s Stone thirteen times already. I don’t need to take notes on something I can quote in my sleep.”

“You know you’ve got to start a team here now, right?” Johnson’s voice had taken on that weird, serious edge that it got whenever he meant business. 

“I mean, to be fair, we are in the cradle of quidditch civilization up here in the grand north east. It’s kind of crap that we don’t have one already.” Shitty opened one of the tabs concerning new student organizations.

“Maybe it’s your destiny, Knight,” Marsh said in an affected voice, waving his hands over an imaginary crystal ball on the table in front of him. Johnson glared at him, and Carter deflated under his friend’s gaze. “Sorry.”

“I don’t know the first damn thing about running a team of anything, let alone starting one.” He rubbed the side of his index finger against his mustache

Jack shifted in his chair. “I’ve coached teams before. I mean, they were kids’ leagues, but I still managed pretty much all of it on my own. Scheduling practices and matches, helping them train, equipment upkeep and storage and transport.”

Shitty’s face was incandescent. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, my beautiful blue-eyed bestie?”

Jack shrugged and took a sip from his coffee. “I’ll help.”

Shitty patiently waited until he’d set his coffee back down, and then tackled Jack out of his chair and onto the floor. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” He punctuated each outcry with a kiss to Jack’s cheeks.

Johnson nodded, dropped enough bills on the table to cover their tab, and stood. “Now to name it.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I figured I'd open this up to the floor (and, of course, use Johnson to do so): what do we call Samwell's quidditch team? I think Shitty is the kind of founder who wants the name to have a link to Harry Potter lore, so let's keep that in mind. If you've got an idea, leave it in the comments! I can't promise I'll pick one of them, but if I do, I'll credit you & write you a drabble of some sort from a prompt of your choice.


End file.
